beneath the sword and by fire alone. Indeed, it is said that forty
thousand died in this manner in a single day, the day before the last of
the siege.


One night I came back to the lodging where Otomie dwelt with her royal
sister Tecuichpo, the wife of Guatemoc, for now all the palaces had been
burnt down. I was starving, for I had scarcely tasted food for forty
hours, but all that my wife could set before me were three little meal
cakes, or tortillas, mixed with bark. She kissed me and bade me eat
them, but I discovered that she herself had touched no food that day, so
I would not till she shared them. Then I noted that she could scarcely
swallow the bitter morsels, and also that she strove to hide tears which
ran down her face.

'What is it, wife?' I asked.

Then Otomie broke out into a great and bitter crying and said:

'This, my beloved: for two days the milk has been dry in my
breast--hunger has dried it--and our babe is dead! Look, he lies dead!'
and she drew aside a cloth and showed me the tiny body.

'Hush,' I said, 'he is spared much. Can we then desire that a child
should live to see such days as we have seen, and after all, to die at
last?'

'He was our son, our first-born,' she cried again. 'Oh! why must we
suffer thus?'